


(drives you into) delirium

by akaparalian



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 22:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18127187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/pseuds/akaparalian
Summary: “Don’t fucking tease me,” Dex snarls, even though he loves it when Derek teases him and is totally transparent about it — and will even admit it, when he’s out of the heat of the moment. “It’s been, like, a week since you knotted me. That’s too long.”“It’s been three days,” Derek says mildly, or, at least, as mildly as he can manage.Dex kind of hates most alphas, but Nursey isn't most alphas, and he never has been. Or, exercises in highly specialized self-care.





	(drives you into) delirium

**Author's Note:**

> Second fill for OMGCP Bingo! This square was "Alpha/Beta/Omega: Knotting." ...I feel like I've written _so_ much A/B/O recently. Like, it's always been a favorite trope of mine, but I'd never actually written much of it, and then it's like the floodgates opened and like, bam. There it is, in every single one of my current fandoms (at least as of the posting of this fic).
> 
> As always, you can find me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/akaparalian), [Tumblr](http://floralegia.tumblr.com), and [Dreamwidth](http://akaparalian.dreamwidth.org).
> 
> Title from 'Silvertongue' by Young the Giant.

Derek thinks about it sometimes, but honestly, the thing is, he’s pretty sure that if he ever actually got to help Dex with a heat, he’d die, because the sex is good enough as it is, without adding all of… _that._

Dex kind of has a complex, which isn’t much of a secret. Well, okay, that’s an abject lie, because it was absolutely a secret for the first year or so that they knew each other, but it’s not a secret _now_ , anyway. Back when Dex had drowned himself in scent-blockers every day and tried to convince them all he was a beta, Derek had thought he was just kind of an asshole, and hadn’t clued into the fact that all of his weirdness about dynamics was something deeper than that until pretty much the exact second he showed up at the Haus fall semester of their sophomore year and walked directly into a wall of Dex’s un-blocked, 100% organic, USDA certified, holy-shit-no-one-smells-that-good omega scent, and, well. It had all been downhill from there. 

Downhill for a bit, anyway, and then up again, and then sort of sideways for a while, and the point is that eventually being there got them here: Dex on his knees, ass up, swearing up a storm into his pillow, because Derek is thumbing him open, his hole positively dripping slick and clutching at nothing, fluttering and begging in all the ways Dex himself is too proud to do most of the time.

City-slicker Manhattan alpha though he may be, Derek’s not exactly unaware that things are different in little towns like the one Dex grew up in, especially different in more traditionalistic communities, and _especially_ different for omegas. So Dex’s complex — and it totally is a complex — kind of makes sense. He gets fucking _weird_ around alphas, defensive, and he makes a point at every possible opportunity of proving to everyone around him that he’s at least as strong and competent as they are. It comes off as uptight and a little dickish, if you don’t know him that well, but Derek knows him well, at this point, and knows that none of it is Dex _trying_ to be an ass — and, well. Derek visited him over the summer last year; he’s met a good portion of the extended Poindexter clan, at least in passing, and he’s seen the way they treat Dex, how _differently_ they treat him, how it took all the stubbornness in Dex’s tall frame and broad shoulders for him to get his family to treat him the same as the rest of his siblings, just because he’s the only omega out of all of them.

“Is that why you fix stuff for us all the time?” Derek had asked him once, not too long after that. “You know you don’t have to. The team is a good group of guys, and, like, besides, they’ve all been on the receiving end of your checks in practice by now. I think you’ve proved your point, you know?”

But Dex had just rolled his eyes — fondly, at least, more exasperated than pissed off, which maybe more than anything illustrated exactly how far their relationship had come from where they’d started. 

“No, dumbass, I know that,” he’d said. “I fix the Haus because I _like_ fixing the Haus; I’ve been working in my uncle’s shop since before I presented. I’m good at that shit.” He’d paused for a second, and something a little uncertain had flashed over his face, and then he’d added, “I mean, yeah, I like that it makes me feel useful, I guess. But it’s not like — it’s not dynamic shit. I know the team isn’t gonna treat me any different. I mean, you never have before.”

Still, Dex’s feelings about alphas in his day-to-day life are obvious just from watching him, and it makes Derek feel all the more lucky, in a way, that Dex never looks at him the way he looks at alphas they pass on the quad. Obviously, he’s glad that Dex doesn’t think he’s some knotheaded douchebag, seeing as how they’re _dating_ , but Dex never, ever looked at Derek the way he looks at alphas he passes on the street — cautious, suspicious, defensive, resigned. He hadn’t looked at Derek like that even before Derek knew he was an omega — even back when they hadn’t been able to speak more than three words to one another without breaking out into an argument. Never.

“Hey, dickweed,” Dex growls from underneath him, glaring over his shoulder, drawing Derek right back out of his head and into the present moment — the present moment where Dex is in his bed, in the room they share, presenting, looking so incredibly fuckable that it’s honestly a miracle Derek hasn’t already knotted just at the sight of him. “You planning on getting a move on sometime this century, or should I go?”

Derek smiles at him, a lopsided little grin that he punctuates with an easy shrug and a squeeze to the meat of Dex’s ass that makes him shudder. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I got caught up thinking about you.”

Dex narrows his eyes. “If you start composing poetry back there, I swear to god…”

He doesn’t finish the statement, but the way he trails off significantly is an effective enough threat. Derek snorts, and this time leans forward to bite at the plush curve of Dex’s ass instead of just squeezing.

“Maybe someday,” he mumbles against all that warm, moon-pale skin; even just speaking makes his mouth brush across what seems like an infinite number of freckles. Every time he tries to dedicate himself to cataloguing every single one, marking them with kisses or touches or bites, they seem to multiply under his hands, his mouth, and shift around until there’s an entirely new expanse before him for next time. “Right now, though, I’ve got different plans.”

“You better,” Dex mutters, “you — _ah!”_

Derek grins — he can’t quite help it — but he doesn’t stop, just licks over Dex’s hole again, savoring the taste of his slick and not pressing his tongue in, even though Dex is already so open and wanting that it would be easy, instead just brushing over the top in long, flat presses that have Dex canting his hips back and crying out wordlessly. It’s convenient that they both love this so much, because Derek would be incredibly bummed if he didn’t get to get his mouth on Dex’s hole at least _some_ of the time; even if Derek didn’t enjoy eating Dex out purely for its own merits, which he _does_ , he definitely does, he’d have to appreciate the way it gets Dex going like none other. He always gets so wet, so _fast_ , like flipping a switch, and he never manages to hold out long before he starts babbling.

Sure enough, Derek presses the flat of his tongue to Dex’s hole just one more time, the muscles seizing under his mouth, and Dex babbles, “Oh, fuck, fuck, please — please, Der, I need it, fuck you, _please_ —”

There’s already slick running down Derek’s chin when he pulls back, his tongue darting out to clean the worst of it from his lips. “What do you need, baby?”

“Don’t fucking tease me,” Dex snarls, even though he _loves_ it when Derek teases him and is totally transparent about it — and will even admit it, when he’s out of the heat of the moment. “It’s been, like, a _week_ since you knotted me. That’s too long.”

“It’s been three days,” Derek says mildly, or, at least, as mildly as he can manage. All he gets is a wordless snarl in response, so he leans back in and, this time, spears Dex’s hole open on his tongue, holding him open with his thumbs in order to get as deep as possible. Dex _shrieks_ , and Derek doesn’t even think about the fines they’re no doubt racking up, because that noise goes straight to his thus far ignored cock.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dex breathes, and then he whines, and, when Derek starts to slowly fuck into him with his tongue, setting up an easy, teasing rhythm, he says, “ _fuck_ , Der- _ek_ , if you don’t get your dick in me soon I’m gonna scream.”

“You’re kinda already screaming,” Derek points out, pulling back only far enough to get the words out. “And you’re making a lot of threats for a guy who pretty much dragged me to our room and threw himself at me ass-first.”

“Fuck you, I did not,” Dex replies, somewhat automatically, even though Derek’s not exaggerating; that’s basically exactly what happened. “And anyway, I had a rough day. So shut up.”

He doesn’t reply with words, just hums against Dex’s hole, and the noise that gets out of him is almost inhuman. Derek glances up to see that Dex’s hands are clenched so tightly in the sheets, white-knuckled, that it almost seems a miracle he hasn’t ripped holes in them already.

“You really want my knot?” he murmurs a second later, because he can’t fucking help himself, and because Dex is literally the hottest thing he’s ever seen, heard, touched, smelled, or tasted, Jesus Christ. “You want it that bad?” 

“I’m already begging for it,” Dex pants back at him, canting his hips insistently back towards Derek’s face again. “Not sure what else you fucking want, you bastard.”

“Bossy,” Derek sing-songs, but he slips two fingers easily into Dex’s hole, testing the stretch, then licking around them where they squelch through the slick that’s still practically dripping from his entrance. “ _Fuck_ , you’re so wet.”

Dex laughs breathlessly, grins back at him all teeth. “Only for you, asshole.”

“Only for me,” Derek repeats, then slips in a third finger alongside the other two. He won’t go farther than that; three’s a good compromise, they’ve discovered, between his desire to make sure he’s not going to hurt Dex and Dex’s desire to get hurt a little. Derek’s fingers are slim, but his knot sure isn’t, so three is a good middle ground. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Dex pants. “Fucking _please_ fuck me.”

“Well, if you’re gonna ask me so nicely,” Derek says, sitting up a little regretfully — the only real disappointment he has with regard to eating Dex out is that he never gets to do it for very long before Dex gets frantically impatient to have his dick instead — and pulling Dex toward him by the hips, shivering a little at the way he claws at the sheets as he’s tugged down the bed. 

“I’ve _been_ asking,” Dex says, but Derek barely hears him, because at the same time, he bows his back so that he’s presenting even more obviously, the arch bringing his ass up and out. The slight wiggle doesn’t exactly hurt, either, though Derek honestly can’t tell if he’s doing that part on purpose — it’s subtle enough that it looks like it might just be swaying and trembling, not an intentional tease. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna take care of you,” Derek murmurs, giving Dex’s ass one last squeeze with one hand and fisting his dick with the other, lining up so that the head just brushes Dex’s hole. He can’t quite resist one final tease, dragging his cock lazily around Dex’s rim so that the head just catches on the fluttering muscle, though it’s a torment for him almost as much as it is for Dex, the promise of completion just around the corner.

“Nursey, _fuck_ , come on,” Dex groans, trying to push back against the light brush of contact. Derek doesn’t let him, pulls back just far enough to be out of reach, and Dex growls with frustration.

Still, Derek’s only human, and as much fun as teasing Dex is — and it _is_ — there’s only so much that he can take. He counts backwards from five in his head, waiting just long enough that he can tell Dex is winding up to start complaining again, and then without warning he pulls Dex back onto his cock, one smooth, slick thrust that brings their hips flush together.

Dex positively _howls_ , which is pretty much par for the course but never, ever gets old, and behind him, Derek grins wildly, leaning forward to blanket Dex’s back with his body.

“That what you wanted?” he pants into Dex’s ear, twitching his hips in tiny shifts as they both get adjusted. God, but Dex is so perfect around him, under him; he’s swearing up a storm, his hands still fisted in the sheets, his head turned sideways so that he can breathe easily and his eyes squeezed shut, brows drawn in obvious pleasure.

“Close,” Dex says, sounding winded already but gamely thrusting his hips back against Derek’s as best he can. “I want you to fuck me. And I want your fucking _knot_.”

Derek laughs breathlessly, then straightens up, because as much as he likes the full-body contact, it kind of inhibits his range of motion. He sets his knees apart, bracing his weight between them and squeezing appreciatively at Dex’s waist. “You keep running your filthy mouth like that, and the knot’s not gonna take too long,” he says, punctuating the sentence with an experimental little thrust.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dex breathes almost viciously, his eyes fluttering open just long enough to pin Derek with a stare that hits him right in the pit of his stomach. “Come on, give it to me.”

It’s all Derek can do to groan, let his head fall forward a little, and finally give in and snap into motion. His pace isn’t the steadiest or most controlled, because he’s the luckiest guy in the world, and Dex feels so fucking good around him that he’s got no illusions about lasting quite as long as he’d like to — which means he’d better kick it into gear in more ways than one. Dex lets out a particularly loud moan on one thrust, and Derek hones in on that, trying his best to get his prostate as consistently as possible. He’s been loud as hell this whole time, but Dex goes up another order of magnitude in volume, and Derek grins to himself, squeezing Dex’s waist tightly and using that grip to pull him back to meet every thrust.

“There you go, baby, you gonna come for me?” he pants. If Dex comes now — well, Derek supposes it’s not a guarantee, but historically, that means he’ll probably come again once they’re tied, and there’s nothing, fucking _nothing_ , better than that, as far as he’s concerned.

“Close,” Dex manages, his voice already starting to go hoarse and raspy around the edges just from the amount of noise he’s been making; it’s not quite as good as it is when Derek gets to fuck his throat, but it’s up there, and it’s one hell of a good sign. 

And sure enough, there it is — the telltale feeling of his knot just starting to stir at the base of his cock. Dex obviously feels it, too, no matter how subtle, because in the next moment he’s gasping, finally working a hand under himself, and then, a moment later, choking out a “Fuck, _fuck_ , Derek!” as he comes, his hole pulsing and getting even slicker as he spills onto the sheets out of sight.

It’s hard as hell, but Derek pauses for a second, giving Dex a minute to shudder through his orgasm while he stays still. His knot is definitely starting to swell now, which makes it even more torturous to just sit there while Dex’s hole clenches rhythmically around him, and he has to break out some yoga breathing to make it work. But he manages, and it’s thankfully not too long before Dex reaches a hand back to bonelessly pat him on the thigh and says, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Derek reconfirms, even though his whole body is thrumming with the urge to _move_ , even though his knot is starting to catch obscenely at Dex’s rim, the stretch obvious even though Derek’s staying perfectly still.

“I fucking need it,” Dex says, voice absolutely wrecked, “Derek, come _on_ ,” and that’s it: Derek bursts into motion again like he’d never stopped, thrusting hard and looking down at where his knot, still only halfway to its full size, is stretching Dex beyond what looks like it should be possible. It hits him just as hard now as it had the first time, and he and Dex both moan when his cock twitches at the sight.

“Not much longer, Will, baby,” Derek breathes, his core and his legs starting to burn with the effort he’s putting into each thrust; sure enough, once, twice, three times more, and his knot shoves into Dex’s hole with a final slick _pop_ , and doesn’t come back out again. The way Dex moans and scrabbles against the best underneath him is all it really takes to send Derek spiralling over the edge, into the long, slow, delicious kind of orgasm that comes from knotting someone good and tight.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, as the first wave of it hits him, and under him, Dex echoes the sentiment, grinding his hips back so that Derek’s cock is as far into him as possible and then grinding even more insistently, his breathy little grunts and groans making it more than obvious that he’s got Derek pressed right up against his prostate.

“There you go, baby, fucking take it,” Derek breathes, forcing himself to keep his eyes open no matter how much they want to fall shut in the face of his orgasm, because he can’t miss the way Dex looks like this, desperate and sweat-soaked and gorgeous, split open on his knot and desperately pressing for a second orgasm. “You gonna come for me again? Be real good and come on my knot?”

“Der, _fuck_ ,” Dex whines, and then moans long and loud when Derek exercises just enough presence of mind to give his ass a sharp slap. He rubs at the pink mark it leaves behind, then pulls Dex even farther onto his cock, an active participant now in getting his knot up against Dex’s prostate as insistently as possible, the last traces of his own orgasm still rolling through him, and that’s it. Dex comes for a second time clenching down around his knot, shaking with the force of it and making Derek shake, too, as his hole goes even tighter and the sweet, hot pressure of him even more unbearable.

There’s a long moment where they both just shake through the aftershocks together, the room suddenly feeling silent and almost echoing with only their heavy breathing to fill the air. Once Derek finally feels like he’s regained some sense of limb coordination, he murmurs, “Come on,” and tugs gently at Dex’s limbs until they’re able to flop over on their sides, still tied — his knots usually last around fifteen minutes, so it’ll be a while — but at least much more comfortable than if they’d stayed on their knees. Dex immediately snuggles back towards his chest, and Derek wastes no time in curling his arms around him, one across his chest and one in just the right position to run fingers through his hair.

Dex sighs happily at the sensation, shifting a little. “God, I needed that,” he says quietly, leaning his head back against Derek’s shoulder, his voice raspy.

“Do you ever not?” Derek teases. They don’t break out the humiliating dirty talk very often — it tends to ride a line just a little bit too close to the way their relationship had been way back at the beginning, when they were fighting all the time, and neither of them likes that reminder, but very, very occasionally, when he’s in the right mood for it, Dex goes fucking _wild_ for it, and on the rare occasions when they do, the phrase ‘knot slut’ has been known to make an appearance. “I mean, damn, you sure know how to make a guy feel appreciated. Pretty sure the whole Haus heard how good my dick is.” He pauses. “Again.”

“You love it, or you’d find a way to shut me up,” Dex says with lazy confidence, sounding more than well-fucked and practically oozing satisfaction. “It’s the only way to relax and unwind after a shitty day, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Some people take baths, or drink a hot cup of tea, or punch their pillow,” Derek says.

“Those people,” Dex says with all the confidence possible for a person drifting along the edge of a post-knot nap, “don’t have you.”

Dex wouldn’t be able to see it with the angle they’re currently at, but Derek hides his smile in the back of his neck anyway. “Damn right they don’t.”

“You’re my self-care and I’m not sharing,” Dex mumbles, and then falls silent, his limbs going even more slack and pliant than they already had been, his breathing evening out a little. 

He’ll have to wake him back up in just a few minutes so they can clean up, because Derek is a responsible boyfriend and knows they’ll both be grumpy as hell if they don’t take care of that sooner rather than later, but for now, he lets himself drift just a little, too, Dex held securely in his arms, the both of them still tied together by his knot as securely as he could have ever hoped for. He wouldn’t have even had the words to ask for what they have now before it practically fell into his lap, which is strange to think about, looking back. But regardless, he’s here now, with Dex pressed up against him filling every nook and cranny, and the rest of it doesn’t really matter when that part’s true.

Derek smiles again into the side of Dex’s neck and lets his eyes flutter closed. He’s honestly not sure that _anything_ is ever going to matter more to him than this, but there’s time to figure that out later. For now, he focuses on just soaking in the moment, and letting everything else soar by, thoughts for a time when he doesn’t have Dex warm and content in his arms. 


End file.
